


The Responsible Thing To Do

by Monstrosibee



Series: Ultramarine and Nickel-Plated [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, inserts the only good part of idw2 into everything im writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 08:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19422649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstrosibee/pseuds/Monstrosibee
Summary: Prowl INSISTS he's taking her to a rescue. Bluestreak knows he's already attached.





	The Responsible Thing To Do

"You," Prowl said, "are definitely NOT native to this area."

The little organic flier looked up at him mulishly from her nest of steel shavings she had tucked into the corner of the apartment garden, hidden under a half dead circuit shrub. Her leathery wings tucked tight near her body, but he could see where the fragile arcs of ribs poked through her paper thin skin. Despite Prowl's proximity, crouched as he was over her hiding place and looming, she chirped and adjusted some of the shavings around her wings with a jagged edged beak. 

Even ignoring her organic nature, her behavior marked her as an escaped exotic pet.

With more and more people returning to Cybertron, many brought what items they had amassed in their time away. While most soldiers had little time to collect material possessions during the war, neutral bots had lived on foreign organic planets, and many had adopted the local customs - and animals. Of course, returning to Cybertron meant they might not have the resources to care for organic animals, and some owners were not the most responsible of people.

Venting softly, Prowl adjusted the settings on his visor to check her vitals, and heat readings bloomed in his vision. While malnourished, her tiny heart was strong, and his chemical sensors didn't detect any immediately obvious illnesses. There were some injuries on the furled planes of her wings - little cuts and lacerations from time living as a soft organic on a planet made largely of metal. The shavings of circuit shrub she'd made her nest out of probably weren't the most comfortable for her delicate skin.

But she didn't protest when ever so gently, he slid his hands under her. Beneath her wings, the two little toes on her feet hooked into the joint of his knuckles, and she chirruped in surprise, tail going straight out in an attempt to balance in his fingers. Her tiny body just barely filled his palms, and Prowl smiled ever so slightly as she shook herself back into the curled position she'd adopted in her nest.

"Let's get you inside."

Bluestreak had seen a lot of strange things in his and Prowl's apartment since he'd gotten home months ago, but he thought maybe this was the strangest. The little organic only paused a moment in picking apart the carcass tucked between her wings to squawk at him, like he was invading her home and not the other way around. Blue frowned at her and dropped his tools on the tile by the dispensary table.

"Blue? How was work?" Prowl's voice came from the kitchen, and he emerged a moment later, wiping his hands on a towel. There were organic blood droplets on his forearms, which he quickly wiped away before setting the towel on the counter behind him. "You were working on a generator in downtown, weren't you?"

"Yeah." Blue couldn't tear his eyes away from the flier where she picked at the flesh on the table. "So, uh..."

"Oh, I found her outside, under the bushes out front." Moving around the table, Prowl twined his hand in Blue's, bumping his chevron against the taller bot's chin in greeting. "I'm just holding onto her until I can find a rescue that will take strays of her kind. She's lucky that there are already places importing off world animal feed."

The flier squawked at them again, having finished her meal, then flared up to show off her full wingspan in a display that Blue was sure she herself found impressive. But his attention was more on Prowl now - he knew the dopey, slightly silly look on his partner's face as Prowl watched the flier.

Tightening his grip on the other's hand, Blue tapped out his response in chiro this time. "She's pretty cute, you know. And not too big. The building is pet friendly too."

Prowl turned sharply to him, hands still locked. "Bluestreak, neither of has ever owned a pet, let alone an exotic one. She's very charming, but the responsible thing to do would to be to take her to a rescue."

Blue had to struggle to keep the amusement off his face as he nodded solemnly. "No no, you're right. Come on, I need help with my rust polish. I forgot to put it on this morning."

The living room was dark, evening long ago having given way to night. Muffled background noise floated in through the open screen window leading to the outer back deck of the apartment: the honks of alt modes, exuberant shouts from the bar down the street, the whir and clicks of people in nearby apartments transforming. 

Bluestreak's engine idled in contentment as he let the cool breeze ghost across his too hot plating. The humidity of the night wasn't great for his chronic rust in the long term, but in the moment, it felt like extinguisher foam on a fire. It wasn't rare for him to find himself out on the deck at night when his rust began to heat the underside of his plating in recharge, cooling off in the fresh air and enjoying the familiar sounds of night.

What was rare, however, was watching Prowl slink across the floor behind the couch to the table and to the crate they had found for the flier. Blue dimmed his optics to almost invisibility as his partner reached into the box to remove their guest from her nest of towels. She chirped at Prowl sleepily, then stretched her wings and hooked the claws on her wings into his wrist joints. He muttered something Blue couldn't hear, and she chirped back. 

Smiling, Prowl gently took two of his fingers and stroke the underside of her beak, and she leaned into the touch, even placing one of her little foreclaws on his hand. When he stopped, she bobbed her head at him, then squawked and clambered up his arm and shoulder in a movement almost too fast to see. 

He stroked her wings for a few minutes more, then gently lifted her off his shoulder and placed her back in her box. Blue was still smirking as Prowl disappeared around the corner and back into the bedroom.

The next morning, the flier sat on the table as Prowl and Bluestreak shared energon before work, once again tearing apart a bit of organic flesh. The latter didn't say anything about it, and Prowl only said, "Her name is Rescue, and she's a Phenarin glider." Rescue punctuated this statement with a quick squawk and a thrash of her head as she tore at her breakfast.

Blue made a mental note to pick up some wall perches and more feed at the store on the way home from work.


End file.
